Strange kind of Love

I have been in love before

with a handsome man, TDH

tall,dark and handsome I mean,

He was quite an original,

the real african guy, speaks his luo with

a lakeside twang,

and his skin, sun scorched,

the best way, the sun knows how,

and who loves to eat fish not fillet.

 

With all the charm within him,

I didn’t know much about him,

only that he approached me at a low-time in my life

going through PMS probably,

and feeling lonely and crampy,

not in the right place to make a decision,

I was mainly depressed and also a bout of

peer envy.

that is how our relationship hapened

and within two years later, I didn’t know where it was going

End of High school *..crickets…*

well that was my high school love life-my first. I didn’t fantasize about it much, because in my mind, I thought, there isn’t anything he would have seen in me, and his lack of communication did nothing to ease my worry.

Fast-forward: 6 years later. Same guy, same charm, he’s back

and i feel like I am in just that exact same place he left me,

A longing that i never dared,A spark that never lit,

A passion not triggered.
All there, all of it, waiting with potency for his next move.

I wanted him, so bad, wanted him to say it, wanted him to work on it and bla bla, I wanted initiative,

But somehow, he has always said it.

Some days I get crazy. I remember the kissing, hugging and romancing at Uhuru park,

Him lifting me, and feeling like a stupid child on a merry-go-round,

and pouring icecream on my face and licking it off, and Just being tempted to dream of the future in his eyes.

This guy has a way with me. I mean just his touch. When he brings his face close to mind,I want to do many things, but first, i will scan his face for a trace of pretence, find nothing.

Inhale his body sweat-raw like a sherpherd’s, and reach for his lips.

 

But I don’t know, i try…

I always feel like nothing is coming out of it,

i feel like am wary of investing my heart

I feel like i don’t want to go too far, Am scared he will leave soon.

Somehow in his face, I see a long journey to “us”

although his speech won’t let up.

 

But a nagging instinct tells me ;

it’s a whirlwind, it tells me its mutual,

it tells me we won’t ever be at one place together

and “us” an utopia.

The feeling that this will always be it, it doesn’t allow me to let guard,

and I allow my heart to watch, and wander about.

because he’s a man of many toungues and tastes and I feel like he’s out for a feast.

and am scared to never impress.

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